


4:07 AM

by buffering



Category: Original Work
Genre: A lot of mental health problems wow, Angst, Christianity fucked me up lmfao, Daddy Issues, Depressing, Depression, Gen, I should go back to therapy, I'm working through some things, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, LGBTQ Themes, Lists, Mental Health Issues, Religious Conflict, Shocking I know, Suicidal Thoughts, Wow this is really sad, jesus christ - Freeform, lgbtq+, like so many others - Freeform, oops almost forgot about, or at least I was when writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29188056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffering/pseuds/buffering
Summary: It's 4:07 AM. These are things I know.(or, 13 facts about me.)
Kudos: 1





	4:07 AM

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to 'Eva is spiraling and overthinking things', an original work by me :) To be fair, I wrote this a few months ago but it still rings true. And hey, maybe someone reading this would relate and not feel too alone? This was honestly me being unable to sleep and sitting outside typing this on my phone at 4 AM, so if it's not super coherent that's why. Only thing I've really changed is typos and all. 
> 
> There are small mentions of self-harm in here, but nothing too explicit. There are also mentions of an eating disorder and disrealization, again nothing too explicit. Please take care of yourself.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please stay safe out there :D

It's 4:07 AM. These are things I know:

  * I am 21 years old.



  * I am gay in the sense I would fuck anyone but I'd prefer to not have sex as it's repulsive and I don;t want to date anyone because I don't understand how that's attractive. 



  * I am terrified of eternity, if it exists, if god is real, if there's any meaning to anything, of bugs, if I am meaningless, of the oceans and the creatures in it. I am terrified of many other things, like losing everyone or having them stab me in the back while smiling to my face or never actually connecting with anyone. I am terrified. 



  * I desperately want to scream, although if I started I'm afraid I would never stop. I desperately want to be heard, to be seen and expressed and understood, to allow myself to feel anything, to live (truly live, really breathe and feel the air fill my lungs and leave freshness on my tongue), to just jump or cut of swallow or exhale and let myself end. I am a needy person - I want many things, too many things I will never be able to get. 



  * I have been hurt, burned, scarred, hollowed out by my father and he has no idea, I don't know the correct vocabulary for the inpact he's had on me, how he's made me afraid of men and raised voices and marriage and my house and doing things I enjoy and when I hear his pickup pull in the stone driveway my heart stops and when I hear him walking above my room I just ask the air for him to leave please let him leave. I am afraid of my father. I've been afraid of him for 21 years. He will never know this, not when he is alive. Maybe when he's cold and dead, nothing more than a slab of stone surrounded by grass, I'll tell him. I just want to be good enough for him. Why do I care what he thinks about me why do I need his approval so much?



  * I cut to punish myself when my chest is too tight and I can not breathe. I purge to punish myself for eating, for destroying my body with excess. I want to die as a final punishment to myself, just in case hell is real. I hate myself for being a coward in the moments I needed to be brave, for not being good enough, for being weak, for not changing from when I was younger. 



  * I have no idea who I am. I want to know who I would've been if my parents had actually loved each other, if I'd been allowed to feel things growing up, if I hadn't been poisoned as a newborn.



  * I have been abused by religion. Christianity is tainted, a supposed medicine I can't swallow without throwing it back up. I can't step into a church without wanting to run, without my heart sputtering, without my chest tightening with anxiety. Praying hands hide something dangerous in them. I've grown to hate it, the whole thing. I wish...



  * I wish a lot of things. I trap myself in wishful thinking. I'd rather exist in fiction and fantasy than reality. Nothing is real, the sky is a screen playing clouds as a screensaver, I am trapped in a glass box and I need to get out please let me out I can not breathe here. I am simply sleeping, and those I read and watch are waiting because I am so self-centered. Everything must be about me, so of course I am the main character in the grander scheme of things. I am simply in a coma, and when I die here I will wake up over there and things will finally make sense. I will finally have answers. 



  * I have hidden behind a shielded face for so long I think I've forgotten it's alright to let myself feel. Any emotion, any inkling of feeling I stifle and hide. I do not cry until my eyes suddenly spill and I brush it away as watery eyes. There is a pillage pile of emotion locked in my stomach, and I've forgotten where I've hidden the key. Did I even have it to begin with?



  * I invest in people more than they invest in me. Or maybe I'm being selfish again, making myself appear to be a better person than I actually am. I don't know. I don't call people my friend until they say it first. Saying 'I love you' is impossible - I find myself stuttering at the start of it before I give up on saying it entirely in moments when it really matters.



  * I am sick. I'm disabled according to the law, isn't that funny? I overthink and always come to the worst conclusions. I am a pessimist for the aesthetic. I don't want to be sick anymore, but maybe I'm afraid of change. Everyone's afraid of change in some way - I am no different. I've been sick my whole life; I don't know of any other way to exist.



  * I need help.




End file.
